strange-r
Galinda stood in front of the mirror, scissors clutched in her hand, her reflection staring back at her with an electrifying mix of excitement and reckless determination. The golden strands that had always been her signature—the long, luxurious curls that flowed behind her as she tossed her hair like it was the only thing that defined her—were now poised to fall. It felt like the calm before the storm. Her heart raced, and she knew, with a sudden, impulsive certainty, that this was what she wanted.
Galinda was the type of person who acted on a whim, the kind of girl who didn’t wait around to make decisions. If something felt right in the moment, she did it. She was unpredictable, often spontaneous in her choices. She didn’t usually overthink things—she went with her gut, and right now, her gut was telling her that it was time for a change. Time to throw out the polished, perfect image—the “toss toss” girl that everyone knew—and replace it with something different. Something new.
“You’re really doing this?” Pfannee’s voice was cautious, full of disbelief, as he stared at her, seated on the edge of the bed in the dimly lit room. His eyes were wide, his hands nervously adjusting his sleeves. Galinda had been so sure of herself when she entered Pfannee and Shenshen’s room. It was supposed to be a private space—away from the possibility of Elphaba walking in—but even now, with the scissors in her hand, it felt almost too real.
Galinda turned to face him, meeting his gaze in the mirror. There was no hesitation in her eyes. She was impulsive, but sure of her decision. “Yeah,” she replied with a grin, her voice steady. “Right now.”
“And not in your room?” Shenshen asked, a bit confused, glancing between Galinda and the door. “Why are we doing this in our room? If you cut it in your and Elphaba’s room, she might walk in, and I’m guessing you don’t want that to happen.”
Galinda’s lips curved into a mischievous smile. She was the type who didn’t like to wait for permission—she just acted. And today, she wasn’t going to let anyone’s questions stop her. “Well, it might ruin the surprise for Elphaba,” she said with a shrug, the excitement in her voice growing.
Pfannee raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “But… I thought this wasn’t for her?”
Galinda snapped back, her tone more playful than defensive. “Shut up, Pfannee.”
With a deep breath, she turned back to the mirror, the scissors poised in her hand. This was it—no second-guessing, no regrets. Galinda didn’t think twice. She just acted. And with that, she made the first cut.
The first snip was decisive—sharp and sudden. The metallic sound of the scissors cutting through her golden hair echoed in the room. Galinda’s fingers trembled just slightly, but her gaze never wavered from the mirror. The long locks she’d spent years perfecting—her trademark, her crown—dropped to the floor with a soft rustle.
She hadn’t even flinched.
With each subsequent snip, she could feel the weight of the hair she had been carrying for so long fall away. She didn’t need to look at her friends, but she could sense their stillness, their silent disbelief. Shenshen sat frozen on the bed, and Pfannee, ever the observer, kept watching her, his face full of concern but also some hint of awe. Galinda’s decision had come so suddenly, but now it was happening, and there was no stopping it. Her hands moved swiftly, purposefully, as if this was the most natural thing in the world.
The scissors moved with practiced precision as she worked quickly, the pile of blonde hair on the floor growing with every cut. The strands, once perfect and symmetrical, were now uneven, jagged in places, sharp in others—nothing like the soft curls that had always framed her face. And yet, somehow, it felt liberating.
Galinda could feel it—something shifting inside her. She wasn’t just cutting her hair; she was cutting away the version of herself that had been crafted to please everyone else. This wasn’t for anyone else. She was freeing herself from expectations. From the need to always look perfect.
When the last of her long hair fell, the room fell silent. Galinda stood there, still gripping the scissors, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair now hung in choppy layers, uneven and bold, short and edgy. It was a style she had never imagined for herself but felt more right than anything she had ever seen, definitely not the image of the perfect, prim Galinda Upland. But it was her. She didn’t need to say a word—her friends’ stunned silence said it all.
She set the scissors down, her heart pounding in her chest. This wasn’t about them, but she couldn’t help but steal a glance at Shenshen and Pfannee. They were processing it, still unsure of what to say. But that was okay.
Shenshen, ever the drama queen, leaned forward, inspecting the new look. “Well…” she said, trailing off as she stared at Galinda’s shorter hair. “This is different. I mean, really different.”
Galinda didn’t even flinch. She didn’t look away from her reflection. She wasn’t seeking reassurance, just staring at the new version of herself. “I know. That’s the point,” she said with a satisfied smirk.
Pfannee, who had been oddly quiet through the whole thing, gave a small, approving smile. “You’ve got guts. I’ll give you that.” He stood up and walked over, running his fingers through the choppy layers. “I didn’t think you had it in you, but… it looks good.”
Galinda smirked, feeling a wave of pride wash over her. There it was—her friends weren’t saying much, but they didn’t need to. They understood. It wasn’t about the hair; it was about the statement. And now, she felt like she was finally showing the world who she really was.
She looked at her reflection one last time before turning to face them. “Tomorrow. Elphie’s going to see this tomorrow.” Her voice was steady, but inside she felt a flutter of nerves. What would her Elphie think? Would she understand? Would she even like it? But Galinda didn’t have time for doubt now. It was done. The change had already been made.